


Lost in Darkness

by Ponderosa



Category: Once Upon a Time in Mexico (2003), Sleepy Hollow (1999)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Crack Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-17
Updated: 2007-11-17
Packaged: 2017-12-28 00:17:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/985354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ponderosa/pseuds/Ponderosa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world didn’t seem real anymore. Nothing did. Not the metal beneath his fingers or the ground beneath his feet. Sometimes, and it happened more and more these days, he felt like he remembered going to sleep, but just hadn’t woken up yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost in Darkness

The world didn’t seem real anymore. Nothing did. Not the metal beneath his fingers or the ground beneath his feet. Sometimes, and it happened more and more these days, he felt like he remembered going to sleep, but just hadn’t woken up yet.

He didn’t even count the days anymore. Mexico was a memory buried under bones that had turned to dust.

Crane’s hand touched light upon his shoulder, and Sands remembered he was supposed to be walking.

How had they first met, and how long ago was it? A week? A month? A year, even? He couldn’t recall. All he knew was that he found a kindred soul. Someone lost in a darkness of his own. Well, kindred soul to a certain extent.

The turdburgler was afraid of everything.

What good was it to walk behind a blind man when he was heading into an unfamiliar place?

“There’s a low branch there, to your left,” Crane said quietly into his ear.

The warning came too late and he cursed under his breath. “Thanks for nothing, shithead. I just found it with my shin.”

A little sound of disgust whuffed past his ear. Crane didn’t like it when he cursed. Tough cookies.

“So why are we here?” he asked. He wondered why he hadn’t thought to ask before they’d made the trip. “Why’d you want to come back?”

The air smelled of wet and rot, and somewhere, he thought he caught the iron stink of blood. “Place feels like it hasn’t had visitors in a hundred years.”

“You may very well be right,” Crane told him. Crane slid a hand down his arm and caught his wrist, raising it to touch to the bark of a tree.

He felt something strange crawl up his spine, a spike of fear drove into the base of his neck. He pulled his hand away sharply and shook off Crane’s touch. “What the fuck are you trying to say? You said you’d been here before.” He reached out, seeking to place a palm against a face that was unmistakably smooth and youthful. The other man avoided him.

He heard the fabric of Crane’s jacket rustle as he shrugged. Heard him say he didn’t understand it either, but that he hoped they could figure it out together. After all, it had been twenty years since he’d found Sands eyeless and bleeding on the Day of the Dead.

Sands clutched the skull-shaped top of his cane, and moved a step back in the slippery leaves.

The world didn’t seem real anymore. And he worried that it never would. That nothing would, except the feeling of time passing him by.


End file.
